


love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind

by DoctorV



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-18
Updated: 2011-06-18
Packaged: 2017-10-20 12:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorV/pseuds/DoctorV
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Dave Strider sees the world. (Written for a kinkmeme prompt.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous/gifts).



> AU in that no one has gone kill-crazy and everyone's alive.

He smells him before he sees him, and he hears him call out his name before he smells him. The John Egbert assault on his senses goes sound, smell, sight, _holy shit dude are we hugging now?_ The hug is thankfully brief, because otherwise he'd have to pull out his sexual innuendo and the touch has knocked him off kilter enough that he's not really feeling it.

"Dave! Oh man it's so awesome to finally meet you in person! Ha ha wow, your world is _bright_."

He deadpans a "Hadn't noticed" as he tilts his head to bring attention to his shades. John laughs again but it becomes a little nervous as Dave leans in to make sure his nose is working right and he really smelled what he thought he smelled.

He did.

"Dude, you smell like Gushers."

John shoves him and his body language goes embarrassed before he laughs once more. Dave is getting used to the sound of it and stores it away for the next time he reads that "ha ha" on Pesterchum.

"Whatever, man. I totally do not, I smell like manly sweat."

"Yeah well your manly sweat smells like Gushers."

"You're just jealous of all this concentrated manliness."

Dave eyes him up and down, John sticks out in his blue god tier duds against all the shades of metal and heat. "Hate to break it to you, John, but no hat that long has ever been manly."

The hat is pulled down protectively over John's head, like he's worried the manliness police are going to stop by LoHaC and take it into custody. Dave's pretty sure he's pouting, but he knows John will get over it fast.

He's right.

"Man, how can you stand all this _heat_?"

"I'm just so cool I can't even feel it."

"You're in a _suit_."

"Ice. Fuckin'. _Cold._ "

John gets a cool breeze blowing as they make their way to the gate, Dave pretends not to notice how refreshing it is.

\-----

Rose's world sucks sweaty donkey cock.

It's all bright and pastel bleeding into each other and he's _drowning_ in it. He clings to the sight of John's unmanly blue hat bobbing along cheerfully in front of him and places his feet carefully to avoid tripping. He never had this problem on his world of lava and fire and gears. Grey good, red bad, stick to the grey and there are fewer dead Daves to worry about. Hell, he could feel the difference in temperature through the soles of his shoes every time he accidentally swung a foot out over the edge of a cog. But this? This fluffy fucking ocean of white?

This is _hell_.

Thankfully, John doesn't notice. As long as they keep up the banter, John's as happy as a derp in Derpville.

Soon enough, John is calling out to Rose and Jade, waving his hands like they haven't noticed the wind picks up when he's excited.

Rose is a dark line crossing the cloudy horizon of her hell-scape. The proverbial fly in this cream of chicken soup world, oh waiter there appears to be some grimdark in this could you get me another? Beside her, Jade is a splotch of primary-colored red and blue waving back at John with equal enthusiasm. If he didn't already know about Egbert's adventures in ectobiology, he'd already suspect them of being twins separated at birth.

"I see you retrieved our Knight without incident," Rose says evenly once they've drawn near.

Dave tilts his head up and closes his eyes against the brightness creeping along the edges of his shades. "Be honest with me, Lalonde: we're inside a Care Bear, aren't we? Your world is the fluff and sparkles and happy thoughts inside a fucking Care Bear."

"You've discovered the secret of this realm," she replies without missing a beat and fuck the derp twins, how could there be any doubt _she_ was his sister? "We're standing in the hollowed-out cadaver of an embiggened Funshine Bear. Once we reach the inner lining of his stomach laser, we shall have the ultimate weapon with which to beat the game."

"Thought Funshine was a girl."

Rose's darkly-painted lips quirk with amusement, easy to see against her pale skin, and he can tell she's biting back pointing out that he actually knows which magical cloud bear she's talking about. He can also tell that she knows he can tell so the teasing jab is already made, without her having to stoop to childish taunts. Well played, Lalonde.

Meanwhile, John and Jade are making faces and gagging and completely failing to _not_ try to out-giggle each other.

Dave leans in closer to Rose to ask her something and subtly breathes in deeply. She smells like flowery girly crap, to be expected, but not the kind that would feel at home growing out of her Care Bear entrails planet. She smells more like flowers that have been left to symbolically wilt on someone's grave, with a hint of tomb dust. Also expected.

Then Jade can no longer contain herself and launches herself at him for a hug that floods his nose with gunpowder and rich, clean soil. She hugs just like John, except she lingers longer because she's a girl and can get away with it. Also probably because she was raised by a fucking demon dog and doesn't know any better.

Yeah actually it's probably more the second one. She's moving like she's wagging her butt.

"What are we waiting for?" John asks excitedly and Dave thinks they should get this show on the road before his best bro causes a twister and sends them all to Kansas instead of the troll-infested Oz they're headed for.

Jade lets go of him to turn back to John and he can tell they're grinning identical buck-toothed derp-grins from the way it's blasting neon-bright in their voices.

"We're doing this, bro," she says.

John replies, "We're making this happen!"

They laugh like they've just told the best joke in all of paradox space instead of just quoting his shitty ironic webcomic and clutch at each other to stay upright. Watching their messy black hair blur together in his vision, Dave fights back a smile.

Of course that's when Rose chooses to step in close and invade his personal space to quietly ask, "How bad, precisely, is your eyesight?"

Dave's first instinct is to freeze, but he fights it off hopefully before she notices his hesitation and whips his head around to face her. "The fuck, Lalonde?" Incredulous confusion, layered over faint annoyance, coat his words, just as quiet as hers. No need to break up the John and Jade Happy Funtime Laugh-Along Hour.

"Completely aside from the fact that most albinos have--"

"Hey hey now, let's be PC here," he tells her, holding up a hand. "I prefer 'creepy red-eyed cracker freak'."

"My apologies for my dip into the politically incorrect," she replies. Her mouth twists subtly, black on white, a monochrome Mona Lisa. "Most 'creepy red-eyed cracker freaks'--"

"That's better."

"--have some problem or another with their vision. I know personally that our shared coloring can bring with it the unwanted boon of diminished eyesight; I wear contacts myself."

He...did not know that. Good to know, actually. However... "Aside from that?"

Stepping just a bit closer and turning her back to their friends, Rose says bluntly, "You haven't looked directly at anyone's face since you got here." Oops, there go his eyebrows, giving away his surprise. He's usually better about that, but all this end of the world and meeting his best internet pals in person jazz has him distracted.

"Most wouldn't even notice, with your sunglasses in the way," she continues, quickly enough that he could almost read it as reassurance regardless of actual tone. "However, I realized you weren't turning your head as much as would be expected from someone following a conversation visually. I also caught a glimpse of your eyes from the side when Jade was hugging you and they didn't appear to be focused on anything in particular. I--"

"Legally blind," he cuts her off, tired of the barrage of words that spell out "you fucked up, dipshit" and worried that if the conversation continues much longer that their dorky black-haired buddies will notice. "I'm legally blind. I can make out colors, some details when they're close enough. It's easier when there's more contrast."

Rose takes that in, then looks away from him to really take in the nightmare blast of pastel brightness that is her world. "Oh."

Letting his mouth tilt up, Dave says wryly, "Never did like those touchy-feely Care-fucks."

A sharp outward sniff escapes Rose, but the tone behind it is amused so score one, Strider. "Don't worry, Lalonde, I can take care of myself," he murmurs. "Bro raised me to be a goddamn ninja. I've been all Daredeviling it up on a planet where the floor really _is_ made of lava. I'm not a liability."

"How polysyllablically reassuring of you," she replies, monochrome Mona Lisa again. "Though I wasn't insinuating you were a--"

He raises his voice to interrupt her, saying, "So let's get gone already. This much coolness can't be contained by just one universe."

Smirking, Rose points her glowing knitting needles and the four of them abscond the fuck out of Sparkleville Central.

\-----

The Veil is grey metal and grey metal with a little grey metal on top for shits and giggles. The trolls at least have the decency to break up their own grey and black color scheme with their crazy assortment of bright orange horns. He'll probably be using horn size and shape to identify them until he gets used to their snarly, sharp-toothed voices.

Then one of them shoves their way to the front and _there_ she is. She looks just like her self-portrait: black on grey with pointy horns and bright red glasses. She giggles like a crow and then she's _right there_ up in his business, small flat nose going a mile a minute. So Dave figures that's invitation enough and returns the favor, their noses doing a little olfactory tango while John laughs and Karkat is his usual pissy self. Hey have either of them smelled an alien before? No? Then shut the fuck up, Egbert.

"You smell _delicious_ , coolkid," Terezi finally cackles.

He smirks. "Likewise."

It's true enough. She smells like trees and chalk and something he's tentatively going to call "alien musk." That smell is all over the place and sort of a general _person_ smell, but just off enough from the human baseline that he's confident about adding the "alien" qualifier.

There's also something in there that he thinks might be dried spit, which makes sense. Probably everything she _owns_ has been thoroughly gone over with her tongue-eyes.

Karkat accuses them of acting like "woofbeasts" and Jade calls him a fuckass and tells him to be nice while John just laughs and tells him they need to talk about palhoncho things.

Grabbing Dave's arm, Terezi drags him toward the door, saying, "Come on, coolkid, let's blow this popstand!"

Dave lets her pull him along, the shadowed grey hallway swallowing up her black and grey, only the orange and red on her really visible. "Seriously, how the fuck do you even _navigate_ in this place? Doesn't it all smell like...fuck, I don't know, burned fish scales?"

"Metal!" she chirps, crow-giggle lurking in her voice. "With delicate hints of licorice."

"Wow yeah, metal, should've figured," he deadpans, and she cackles and shoves him onto a round metal platform that swallows him up in a brief flare of light and spits him back out somewhere that smells just slightly different, Terezi popping in just behind him. The alien musk isn't as strong here, and when a splash of red swims into view he guesses that it's because this is her private section of hallways and rooms and it doesn't see as much traffic.

"Takin' me to your room already?" he says as she grabs him again and gets back to pulling him forward. "Don't you think that's moving a little fast? What if I'm not that kind of girl, Rezi? You ever think of that?"

Terezi throws her head back and cackles gleefully. "You are _exactly_ that kind of girl, Dave, don't even pretend to be coy."

"Well yeah but if your fearless leader thinks I'm some kind of Earth slut, he'll make you keep the door cracked open. Plus I don't want him getting any ideas about humans. I saw the way he was eying John and Jade. You know he wants to be the filling in a derp sandwich."

"Hee hee, that's disgusting, you're so crude!"

"Hey now, we've traded art before," he says with a smirk. "I know I gotta bring my A-game to impress you."

"Consider me duly impressed. Now get in there!"

Terezi throws open her red-smeared door and unceremoniously shoves him inside.

Something in Dave relaxes as he takes in his new surroundings. There's grey of course, you couldn't escape it in this realm of metal and trolls, but in here, in Terezi's own personal corner of grey purgatory, it is at least broken up by a rainbow of debris. Dave nudges a bright green blob with one foot and the soft thing squeaks. It reminds him of a smuppet, without the impudent jutting and nose-cocks. In fact, that seems to make up the majority of Terezi's rainbow rumpus: various colors of innocent plush.

Without warning, Terezi pulls him even further inside and shoves him down into a cushy, squeaking pile of bright colors. Cackling, she throws herself down next to him and rolls around in the squeaking plush like a pig in the biggest, warmest, wettest pile of shit in hog heaven.

"Okay my alien bloodhound," he says, "now that you've got me in your clutches, what are you planning to do with this much concentrated cool?"

Shifting onto her side to face him, that sharp slash of white appears as she crow-giggles again. Dave is starting to think he might be able to recognize her by the shape of her grin alone. It is uniquely her.

A skinny length of grey and black moves closer and delicate pointy fingers stroke over the soft arm of his red suit. Dave's libido stands up and takes notice as she leans in close. Not that it hadn't noticed yet that he was alone in a squashy pile of plush with a cute girl, but it's a little different now that she's touching him. In fact his libido is suggesting the not-unattractive possibility of a future tongue bath. God only knows where Terezi's tongue has been before, but Dave and his libido are in agreement that who the fuck cares.

"My coolkid from beyond the stars," she murmurs, and he feels her hot, chalky breath ghost across his cheek. "I want you..." Oh yeah, libido fully at attention now. "...to tell me how you see the world."

Wait what.

"What?"

Terezi snickers, nails gently stroking his bicep while her angled grin reappears. "Don't think I don't recognize sniffing with _intent_ , Dave," she says. "You're hiding more than just delicious strawberries and cream behind those licorice shades and I want _details_.

Dave shifts an arm under his head and adjusts his body language to nonchalant. "Dunno what you're talkin' about."

"Yes you _dooo_ ," she wheedles, playfully scratching at his chest with both hands. "Don't be so selfish, Dave! Spill."

Letting out a put-upon sigh, Dave gives her a long look, all her grey and black and sharp white grin, and slowly reaches up to take off his shades. He blinks as his eyes adjust to the low lighting in the room. The whole place is darker than he would've expected from a place full of metal and fluorescent, but he hadn't realized it was just dim enough to be comfortable for him.

Terezi's head tilts to the side, nose sniffing away, and she stops scratching at his chest to lift one hand to his cheek. A finger sweeps gently over his cheekbone, dipping into the darkened, sleepless bruise under one eye. Her other hand goes to her own face and when she takes her glasses off the red becomes less pointy and the shade more organic. How a turquoise-blooded grey alien manages to burn her eyes out and get red is beyond him, but what the hell does he even know about freaky alien biology.

"Are we about to crank this feelings jam up to eleven?" she whispers, still grinning.

Dave smiles at that and closes his eyes. "You know it, babe. This is going to be the most jamming feelings jam in all paradox space. Other feelings jams will look on in awe, eating our feelings dust as we jam right past 'em."

"Heeheehee! Bring it, coolkid!"

"It is already _brought_ , Rezi." Dave opens his eyes and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He's about to be honest, and possibly a little sincere, and it's kind of scaring the shit out of him.

Staring at the fuzzy details of her face, he slowly raises a hand and traces his fingers over her cheek, around the point of her chin. "Grey," he says, then the words begin to flow as he describes what he can see of her. The grey skin and red eyes and maybe he waxes a little poetic when he gets to her grin, because it widens a little. All the while his hands skim over her features in a way he hasn't allowed himself to see someone since Bro and the warning right after that others might see it as weakness, to _hide_ this part of himself. Bro taught him to navigate better and with more grace than a sighted person, and he's grateful to him, more grateful than he has words for even if he put them all in an ironic rap and Dr. Seussed things up a little.

But still...his breath catches in his throat as Terezi patiently listens, not judging, and lets him get close enough to see her flat alien nose, her ragged eyelashes, her thin black lips. His hands trace over everything his eyes take in, filling in the blanks his vision just can't manage. Her hair is a messy black shape, but thick and soft under his fingers, her skin smooth but harder than a human's, she's not as warm as him but doesn't seem bothered by the slight chill of her surroundings.

He shifts closer and presses his nose to her neck, breathing in deeply like he didn't allow himself to do when the others were watching. This close, her alien musk is unique from the general scent of the communal areas. Maybe it's just a female thing, but he thinks it's actually just her, her own personal smell full of alien and treetops and chalk and _her_.

And the whole time, his mouth is running away from him, telling her all this, telling her how he sees the world. Something in the back of his brain that sounds like him parroting his Bro's words is screaming at him to shut the fuck up, but Jesus he can finally fucking _see_ the way he hasn't let himself in _years_ and yeah he might be getting a little sense-drunk off of it. Off of _her_.

He doesn't care.

He comes out of his fugue gasping, thumbs brushing over her eyebrows and his nose tucked under and behind her ear. Her hands are in his hair, petting his scalp. It's probably the most uncool he's been in his entire life.

But he can _see_ Terezi Pyrope and he doesn't. Fucking. _Care._

"So yeah," he croaks, then clears his throat. He leans back a little, but not enough to dislodge her hands from his head. His own hands have migrated to the strange familiar-but-unfamiliar poly-cotton alien blend fabric of her shirt, fingers tangling in her sleeves. "That's how I see. You wanna tell me all about how your tasting all the colors of the wind shit works, now?"

Terezi giggles and shifts onto her back, tugging him closer and down so his head is resting on her shoulder. His nose and chin are kind of "hey, 'sup?" distance from her still-developing chest so he doesn't protest. Besides, her arms are wound around his shoulders and her fingertips are rubbing over his plush suit and his hair almost possessively and he's not sure he could break her hold if he wanted to. Not without one or both of them getting injured, anyway.

She sniffs his hair and licks his temple and proceeds to wax lyrical about red and the subtle differences in flavor and scent depending on what it's coloring. At one point she even convinces him to try tasting some of her chalk and he does just to see if it tastes any different from Earth chalk. A little, but the texture is the same. No amount of coaxing and tutoring from her can get him to taste it the way she does.

It doesn't matter though, when he kisses her he doesn't mind the taste at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt was: _Okay so..._
> 
> _"Most human albinos have vision problems. Many are legally blind, although they tend to be able to read rather than use braille. The vision problems are due to the development of the retina in the back of the eye being abnormal. Also, the nerve connections between the eye and the brain are not the same as in people with normal vision."_
> 
> _Guess who has albinism? Dave has albinism. So I want something in which Dave is revealed to have serious vision issues, like very nearly blind. (Hence the shades?) So he and Terezi bond over what it's like to perceive the world differently from other people, in a barely-ironic-at-all-feeling-jam way. Sex optional, but loved._
> 
> _Bonus points if she tries to teach him how to "see" in flavors and smells._
> 
>  
> 
> Since I had _just_ had a conversation with a friend discussing _this exact thing_ , I took it as a sign that I needed to write it. During the course of this, I discovered a previously unrealized love of writing Dave and Rose bantering, so...that'll probably start happening more often.
> 
> Title is from Shakespeare, all lowercase 'cause I'm a motherfuckin' arTISTE. Goddamn right. ;P


End file.
